Survival II: To Build a Fire
by Cassima
Summary: Complete. Shounen ai. What do you do to keep out the cold?
1. Approaching Ice

Title: To Build a Fire  
  
Author: Cassima   
  
Series: Part 2 in the "Survival" Trilogy; sequel to "Absolute Zero".  
  
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I'd be much happier.  
  
Warnings: Hello, yes, yaoi here. Also, a bit limey towards the end, depressing imagery, and an overuse of the word "cold". And, basically, the idea of it being "cold". This was going to be a lemon, but my muse said no.  
  
Summary: Duo can't get warm.  
  
Pairings: 1x5, 3x4, 3x4+2, 2+5, 1x2x5  
  
Notes on the story itself:  
  
II. TO BUILD A FIRE: Before this was a fanfic by Cassima, it was the title of a story by Jack London, the author of *Call of the Wild*. A depressing story, the title nevertheless stuck in my mind. Thanks, Jack, and I mean no plagiarism.  
  
  
*****  
  
I'm warning you,  
Don't ever do  
Those crazy, messed-up  
Things that you do.  
If you ever do,  
I promise you  
I'll be the first to crucify you.  
  
--"Call and Answer", Barenaked Ladies  
  
*****  
  
  
"Q, we're going to be here for two weeks?" Duo's incredulous voice  
broke the startled silence. "No offense, man, but are you insane?!?"  
  
Quatre tried to stay on the bright side. "It's not so bad, Duo,"  
he said. "It's, um, cozy. And Oz'll never find us here."  
  
"It's a deathtrap," Duo protested. "It's, like, 30 below out here!"  
  
"That's why we have the cabin, baka," Heero said with a glare.  
  
"Don't be such an idiot, Maxwell," Wufei told him haughtily. "It  
has multiple rooms, electricity, and running water."  
  
"And, look at the fireplace!" Quatre cheered. "Perfect for cuddling!"  
  
Duo rolled his eyes. "I think I'm getting a touch of Quatre's  
Uchuu no kokoro; I can see exactly how much fun these two weeks are  
going to be."  
  
"Quit whining, Maxwell, and help carry in the groceries." Heero  
handed him a few large sacks and pushed him towards the door to the  
cabin.  
  
"Just make sure someone brings my bag in soon," Duo called back  
grumpily. His medication was in there, and if it froze, he was  
certain to have another relapse before it was time to leave. Murphy's  
Law demanded it.  
  
Great. Wonderful. Fuckin' terrific. Two weeks, locked up in an  
icy cabin with two pairs of lovers. God had most assuredly sent him  
to hell, where it snowed all the time and there was no fucking  
central heating.  
  
Damn it.  
  
Sure, yes, very romantic, Quatre. Thanks for the good sell. All  
Duo needed right now was for Heero and Wufei to get all gooey and  
mushy on him.  
  
Their romance was strange enough without Heero reciting poetry, and  
Duo still wasn't quite sure how they'd gotten together. His memories  
of that time period were fuzzy at best; he remembered quite a lot  
of pain followed by some nice, black darkness, all overlaid by an  
overwhelming sense of *cold*. It was the cold he remembered best;  
it had filled him, consumed him until he couldn't think of anything  
but the ice in his lungs...  
  
He shivered and busied himself with putting the groceries away. The  
cold outside made him cough, despite the thick scarf wrapped around  
his throat, mouth, and nose, and when the coughing started, the others  
always took great joy in fretting over him. It was like a competiton  
of olympic proportions: which of them could annoy Duo the most  
the fastest. So far, Quatre and his mother-hennish clucking was  
winning, though Heero's glaring as he tried to do *anything* came  
in a close second.  
  
And then they always went off together and left him alone.  
  
Trowa silently deposited a few more bags filled with food next  
to Duo, indicating that he should put them away, before slipping back  
out into the cold.  
  
Ironically, Duo loved snow. He loved it dry and powdery, he loved  
it soft and wet, he even loved it when it was too hard to do  
anything with. He even loved how clean it looked, and how it  
sparkled, and how tiny snowflake patterns got frozen onto the  
windsheild during the night. They hadn't had snow on L2; they'd  
had a lot of dirt, yes, but no snow. There hadn't been any  
snowmen, or snowforts, or snowball fights, or snow angels, and  
he supposed it was a good thing they hadn't had to dress for the  
elements--it made living on the street a heck of a lot easier in  
that respect.  
  
As he stacked the large canister of oatmeal in the back of the  
cupboard next to the box of rice cereal--so many dehydrated foods,  
so little time!--he pulled his muffler a little tighter around  
his face and sighed. Even though Sally hadn't *expressly*  
forbidden it, she had put "playing in the snow" on his list of  
Stupid Things To Do. It could be years before he recovered  
enough to do anything like that.  
  
He wondered what was taking everyone so long; Quatre'd been  
complaining about the cold, himself, earlier, and Wufei and  
Heero were always fond of getting things in order as quickly  
as possible. It seemed odd that no one else seemed to be in  
the house. As he left the kitchen and headed towards the front  
door, he could hear sounds of laughter coming from outside.  
Duo looked out from the doorway at the impromptu snowball fight  
and debated the pros and cons of joining in. He might get  
sick--but, then again, he might not.  
  
"Having fun without me?" he called to them, leaning against the  
doorframe. "You're just lucky the Shinigami's feeling kindly  
today, and doesn't feel like coming out and whooping your ass!"  
It wouldn't do to push Lady Luck, not in this climate.  
  
Quatre grinned at him. "Come out and join us, Duo!"  
  
"Baka!" Heero snapped at that, shaking the snow out of his hair.  
"He can't, remember?"  
  
"Heero's such a crab," Duo told Quatre archily with a wink, trying  
to dispell the disappointment on the blond's face. "Stuff some  
snow down his shorts for me, woncha?"  
  
"Maxwell!" Heero protested.  
  
"We need to bring some more wood in," Trowa said. "For the  
fireplace."  
  
"Is there anything left in the car?" Duo asked Heero.  
  
"Wufei and I can get the rest of it. Trowa'll get the wood;  
you and Quatre work on cleaning up the house a bit."  
  
"Okay," Quatre agreed amiably, and joined Duo in the house.  
"I'm sorry," he said, now that they were alone. "I didn't mean--"  
  
"Don't worry about it, Q," Duo replied with a warm glance. "I  
know you didn't."  
  
"Are you feeling okay?" Quatre asked, really beginning to feel  
guilty. "You're not too cold, are you?"  
  
"Quatre, it's fuckin' freezing! Of course I'm cold!" he rolled  
his eyes. "I'll be fine later. Don't worry about it."  
  
"Are you sure?" Quatre asked worriedly.  
  
"Would I lie to you?"  
  
Quatre finally smiled. "Yes, you're right, Duo. Let's get  
rid of the dust covers!" They went around the room, pulling the  
sheets off the furniture carefully so the dust didn't fly everywhere.  
  
*****  
  
"Hey, did you know there are only two bedrooms?" Duo casually asked  
the group.  
  
Wufei blinked. "What?"  
  
"One bed a piece," Duo said with a nod. "Guess it's a good  
thing this couch is so comfortable, ne? I wouldn't want to  
wake up with a stiff back."  
  
Trowa added another log to the slowly-growing fire, but didn't say  
anything.  
  
"I'm sorry," Quatre said, large-eyed. "I didn't realize--"  
  
"Don't worry about it, Q," Duo said, trying to stop a new round  
of fussing and clucking. "Just don't wear out my couch."  
  
"Hn. Thanks," Heero said from the desk where he'd set up his laptop.  
Duo hid a smile; trouble in paradise? For lovers, Heero and Wufei  
hardly spent any time together, and barely touched. It hardly  
seemed that their relationship had changed at all since they'd  
started sleeping together.  
  
But then, maybe that was just the kind of people Wu and Heero were.  
  
"I will start dinner," Wufei declared, setting his book aside.  
  
"I'll help!" Duo cried, eager for something to do. Wufei sent him  
a leery look that had nothing to do with the state of Duo's health.  
"Oi!" he cried, as if stung. "I'll do only what you tell me! No  
improvising this time, I promise!"  
  
"You better," the chinese boy warned, and allowed Duo to follow  
him into the kitchen.  
  
Duo liked to do things with Wufei; he rarely treated Duo like glass,  
and, although he crabbed and tended to expound on virtues and  
morals, he had an amazing patience. It seemed it was only when Duo *slacked off* that he got especially snappish, because he was willing to explain when Duo seemed sincerely confused or lost.  
  
"We have to cook the fresh vegetables as soon as possible," Wufei  
told Duo after they'd washed their hands. "Get out the carrots.  
You know what those are, right?"  
  
"Orange and pointy, right?" Duo brought out the bag. Yes, he  
knew what carrots were. He wasn't a *complete* doofus in the kitchen.  
  
"That's right. I'll prepare the meat, you peel and wash the  
carrots. Don't peel them too thick, though."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. What are we making?" Duo began to carefully slice  
off the outer skin, making sure not to take off too much.  
  
"Vegetable beef stew." Wufei's hands moved quickly with the  
knife on the cut of meat, and Duo whistled his appreciation.  
"Maxwell! Eyes on the knife!"  
  
"Right." Duo concentrated on not nicking himself with the sharp  
blade. Knives were ordinarily not a danger to him, but he didn't have  
a large amount of experience in peeling.  
  
When he had finished three-quarters of his stack, Wufei told him,  
"That's good. Now cut off the tip and the top." He demonstrated  
for Duo. "Just like that."  
  
Duo began to talk idly about the cabin and the way the wind sounded  
on the walls and roof. He finished with the carrots, and Wufei  
put him to work chopping tomatoes, still chatting away.  
  
"Maxwell, do you ever stop talking?" Wufei asked him once when  
he paused for breath.  
  
"Not usually," he cheerfully replied, and continued his rhetoric  
on the landscape.  
  
When they had thrown everything into the pot and put the pot on the  
stove, Wufei insisted they clean up the kitchen ("You wanted  
to help, Maxwell, you stay and finish the job!").  
  
Duo just hoped he hadn't somehow ruined dinner again. He remembered, back to the first time he'd tried to make food...  
  
*****  
*****  
  
"I'm hungry..." he whined. In agreement, his stomach rumbled a bit.  
  
The three pilots chose to ignore him.  
  
"I'm hungry..." the boy looked around, searching for the target most likely to help him. "Wu, will you make me lunch?"  
  
The Chinese pilot rolled his eyes. "Make it yourself, Maxwell. I'm not your servant."  
  
"But, Wu..."  
  
"We're busy, Maxwell," Heero said from the other side of the room, not looking up from his computer. "Make yourself your own damn food for once."  
  
Duo frowned for a moment, biting his lip, before nodding once and turning to find the kitchen.  
  
Half an hour later, Wufei had the urge for an apple. They'd picked them up the other day on the drive to this safe house Trowa'd found them; windfallen, they were lying on the ground, and the boys could hardly turn down free food. Though slightly bruised, they were still crunchy and tart, and well worth eating, dispite the occasional brown spot. Putting his book aside for the moment, he left the cabin and headed for the kitchen next door, already imagining the sweet taste of the fruit.  
  
When he entered the room, however, all thoughts of apples flew momentarily from his head. Smoke was trickling out of a pot on the stove. Measuring cups and spoons lay messily all over the counter, along with a half-used stick of butter, water slopped everywhere, and powdered cheese. Duo was rummaging through one of the drawers, looking for something.  
  
"Maxwell, what the hell are you doing?" Wufei demanded, and marched over to the stove to turn it off. Daring to look inside the pot--what could the idiot have possibly been making?--he found the crispy, un-appetizing remains of noodles plastered to the bottom. "This is disgusting! Look at the mess you made!" He picked up the pot and showed it to Duo. "How stupid do you get?"  
  
Duo frowned. "I followed the directions on the package..." At Wufei's skeptical look, he amended that statement. "Well, okay, so I was hungry! I just figured, 20 minutes on low heat, so that's, like, eight to ten at high, right?"  
  
"Are you just an idiot, or do you have to work to be so inept?" Wufei asked cooly.  
  
"Well, excuse *me*, Mr. Perfect, but I've never done this before!"  
  
"You've never boiled water?" Wufei tossed the pot into the sink and crossed his arms.  
  
"I've never even had a kitchen!" Duo yelled.  
  
"What?"  
  
"...nevermind," Duo responded, whipping around and wiping cheese powder off his face with a cheese powder-covered hand.  
  
"Maxwell..." Wufei warned.  
  
"I ate out of garbage cans for most of my life," Duo responded sullenly, to mask the hurt. "And the rest of the time, at schools 'n' the orphanage 'n' at the bases, all I had to do was go to the cafeteria." He turned, angry and embarassed. "So, excuse me if I can't do it right! It's not like I didn't ask for help!"  
  
"You could have said you didn't know how," Wufei said quietly.  
  
"Wouldya have believed me?" Duo asked. "Besides, I didn't think it was that hard. I mean, all you hafta do is follow the directions on the package, right? Even an idiot can do that, right?"  
  
Wufei sighed. "Tell you what, Maxwell. I'll help you clean up the kitchen, and then you and I will find something for you to eat. Okay?"  
  
"Really?" Duo looked at him hopefully for a moment before jumping on him and giving him a big hug. "You're the greatest, Wu!"  
  
"Hn," Wufei replied, squirming a little. "Don't mangle my name, Maxwell. And, promise me one thing."  
  
"What's that?" Duo asked, complying to Wufei's struggling and pulling back from the hug.  
  
"You are not to cook without supervision."  
  
*****  
*****  
  
That night, while lying on the couch, Duo frowned and stared at the ceiling. Heero and Wufei had long since retired to their room, as well as Quatre and Trowa, leaving Duo all alone in the still-warming room on his lonely couch in front of the fire. It became evident to him in only twenty minutes lying there that there was no way in the heat of all that was hell that he was going to be warm enough to sleep that night.  
  
He moved the couch closer to the fire and pulled the blankets up as far as he could without losing them over his feet. Unfortunately, now he was too cold on the side away from the fire, and too warm on the fire-side.  
  
He sighed. Sometimes it was hard living with four boys who were involved. He loved them all, even Trowa and Wufei; they were his family for now, and, though they might not always appreciate him, he liked them all as people. But, still, they weren't easy to live with. He saw their happiness and felt empty and isolated, and somehow strongly reminded of all he'd loved and lost.  
  
His thoughts strayed to Heero. He'd thought, a few months ago, that maybe they had some chemistry, that maybe Heero might have been attracted to him. Hell, Duo'd fallen hard; why else would he have spent so many countless hours pulling and pushing against Captain Trigger Happy's locked sheilds and rather violent defense mechanisms? To say he'd been--surprised--to wake up from his sudden illness to find Heero and Wufei an obvious item would be an understatement of grandiose proportions. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel Heero's hand on his cheek...  
  
The Japanese boy seemed fairly happy with Wufei, though. Well, as happy as Heero could get. They apparently had good sex; the walls were thin, and the pillows Duo pulled over his head didn't dampen as much sound as he would have liked.  
  
Quatre and Trowa didn't help much. They were just so--happy. It was disgusting. They never fought, never got tired of each other, never *bothered* each other. Trowa practically worshipped the ground Quatre deigned to trod, and Quatre wasn't much better.  
  
His friends had so much happiness, and all he had was death.  
  
That wasn't true. He had his chronic lung infections. Whoo-hoo, break out the piñata.  
  
He glanced over to the bag sitting over on the desk, rather ominous to his eyes. Sally had given all the pilots lessons on how to take care of him in case he had a serious relapse and couldn't medicate himself, but so far only Quatre had needed to lend him a hand--for which he was sincerely grateful. He didn't need Wufei's cutting remarks when the cold came creeping over him, or Heero's haughty glare, or Trowa's mechanical sympathy. It always started in his hands and feet as a general coolness changing to numbness. His nose went next, cold like a dog's. When he felt it spreading through his back, he knew it would only be a short matter of time before the shaking and sweats started, before it became harder and harder to breathe.  
  
With a sigh, he wrapped the blankets more tightly around him. He didn't need this crap. He really didn't. He wasn't going to think about it; he was going to close his eyes and relax all his muscles, and fall asleep. He wasn't going to think about the cold.  
  
He wasn't going to think about the ice.  
  
*****  
  
He managed to doze despite the cold, but couldn't quite fall into a restful sleep. When a door opened and Quatre came out, he sighed in reluctant acceptance.  
  
"Duo," the quiet boy said softly. "Please come share the bed with Trowa and me. It'll keep you warm."  
  
"I'm fine, Q," Duo mumbled, though his shivers hardly made his words convincing.  
  
"Come on, Duo," Quatre said, pulling him up from the cushions. "It'll be like a slumber party."  
  
Duo sighed and allowed himself to be pulled up, albeit reluctantly. He didn't want to get sick again, and didn't want to upset Quatre...  
  
He followed the blond into the room he shared with Trowa, and Quatre pulled back the covers and slithered over to Trowa. "Climb in."  
  
Duo did so rather uncomfortably. Exactly how many fantasies had he had involving sharing a bed with two people in love with each other? Exactly none, that's how many. Trowa and Quatre whispered to each other lovingly in the darkness, and Duo felt even more like an intruder.  
  
Throughout the night, he lay there, listening to the gentle breathing of the two entwined lovers as they slept. He wasn't comfortable, despite their warmth--or maybe because of it. Their love only reiterated how alone he was... how lonely.  
  
Did they remember what it was like to be alone?  
  
He slept only fitfully that night, and slipped silently out of the room before daybreak, so they could have some private time together in the morning.  
  
***** 


	2. From a Distance

As he carefully measured the coffee grinds into the machine, he idly ran the dream fragments he could remember through his head. They were strange, had been ever since he got sick. One of the ones that occurred rather frequently had something to do with Hilde in a leopard-print teapot; he tried not to think about it too much.  
  
"Maxwell, you better not be cooking without supervision," a grumpy voice grumbled as Wufei shuffled into the kitchen.  
  
"Don't worry, Wu; it's only coffee," Duo said, fighting both a sigh of impatience and a grin. After all, it wasn't just the kitchen Wufei was worried about, and, after spending the night trying not to feel totally insufficient and out of place, it was nice to have someone concerned about him--even if they hid it in concern for the Mr. Coffee.  
  
Never mind that Wufei already had a lover.  
  
"Coffee?" Wufei said hopefully, as the other boy poured water into the top of the coffee maker. Duo could make two things without supervision: coffee and instant oatmeal. Toast was still iffy, and Wufei didn't let him near the tea.  
  
"Hazelnut," Duo confirmed. "It'll be ready shortly."  
  
Wufei made a pleasant noise and leaned against the counter, willing to wait. "Did you sleep well last night?" he asked. "Were you warm enough?"  
  
Duo felt a slight twinge deep in his chest, but smoothly covered his slight hesitation by bringing two mugs down from the counter. "Don't worry about me, Wu. I'll be fine."  
  
"Hn," he grunted, crossing his arms. "Why are you up so early, then? On a day without classes?"  
  
"It's nice to be out of boarding school," Duo admitted. "But, hey, don't mistake my avoidance of classes for disagreement with mornings. I happen to think very fondly of mornings in general."  
  
Wufei raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh, really?"  
  
"Yes, *really*," Duo said a tad snappishly before pointedly re-directing the conversation. "Why are *you* up so early, Wu?"  
  
"I always get up early," Wufei said. "I'm not a lazy weakling."  
  
"Well, neither am I," Duo grumbled, staring at the pot. It wasn't *his* fault he was sick a lot; some people were born to families with houses and medical insurance, some lived in cardboard boxes in the back of alleys for a great deal of their life. It was just the way it worked.  
  
Wufei had no reply to that, and they waited silently for the coffee to finish brewing.  
  
*****  
  
He promised Quatre he'd be okay that night; the house had warmed up quite a bit, and he was hardly cold. Everyone else turned in early, to get a good night's sleep; they were still tired from their furious flight from Oz a few days ago, and all the work it'd taken today to finish getting the house straightened up while there was daylight. Actually, he was pretty sure they weren't sleeping; there was a ominious, rhythmic thumping eminating from Quatre and Trowa's room, and it was a safe bet that Wufei and Heero were just being quiet about it.  
  
He pulled the couch closer to the fire again and curled up in front of it, wrapped in his blankets, with the book he'd stolen from Wufei resting in his lap. When you were alone and dependent on the heat of a fire, there was very little you could do to entertain yourself, short of solitare, reading, and masterbation, and really, he didn't feel much like the last. He closed his eyes and shivered in front of the blaze; his feet and hands were tingling with cold, and he could feel it churning in the pit of his stomach--  
  
Oh, crap.  
  
His eyes flew open, and he quietly closed the book. How long had it been since he'd started to feel the ice? Twenty minutes? Half an hour? Shakily, he pulled himself to his feet, and headed for the bathroom, where they'd put his bag the day before. Why hadn't he realized earlier that his hands were shaking? Very carefully, he prepared the shot; if he moved slowly, he could control himself enough to handle it himself, without needing to call Quatre and disturb their rhythm. In went the medicine... he gently flicked the syringe and cautiously squirted some of the medication out to get rid of the air bubbles. Carefully, very carefully, he slid the needle into the skin of his arm and pushed down on the plunger.  
  
After he disposed of the empty needle, he pulled his blankets back over his shoulders and removed a bottle from the bag, measuring out three teaspoons of the purple-red medicine. It didn't taste too bad, actually, for medicine, but Duo hated the grapey taste anyway. It meant that the ice was back, and he was weak again, a liability. At least this time they weren't on a mission, and weren't likely to be for a few months yet.  
  
He left the bottle in the medicine cabinet, so he didn't have to dig it back out, and carefully put his injection kit away, back in the bag. The last thing he pulled out a small digital clock. He set it to their present time zone, and then set the alarm clock.  
  
Six hours until he got another dose.  
  
The medicine in his earlier injection was already starting to take effect; he felt a little woozy in a way that he knew he could only partially blame on the drugs. "Saa," he moaned quietly, "my life is a mess."  
  
Then, shivering, he wandered back to his couch to lie down and sleep, toting the little clock with him.  
  
*****  
  
Wufei shuffled down the hallway sleepily to the kitchen. The air was crisp and wonderful; he loved how sharp it made the moon look from the kitchen window. Quietly, so as not to disturb Duo, he filled a glass with water and took a drink. The mountains were so majestic and peaceful; he could, he thought, live there happily, if not for the snow. He liked snow, sure, but he also liked wearing shorts occasionally.  
  
The landscape was so serene, he could almost forget there was a war. The stars glittered brightly in the distance, and he remembered wistfully what it was like to fly through space, to be a part of that vast eternal deepness.  
  
With a sigh, he put the empty glass next to the sink and turned back for his room. As his hand was on the doorknob, however, he suddenly heard a shivering sound, and realized that Duo's couch was awfully close to the fireplace. Carefully, he snuck up on the boy and checked over the back of the couch, prepared to re-tuck blankets or throw another log on the fire if need be.  
  
Duo lay curled inward into a ball, blankets twisted around him tightly to lock out the chilly air. His face--the little Wufei could see of it peeking out from the few woolen wrappings--was pale, and he was shaking in his sleep. Wufei frowned; his clock was set up on the end table, which meant--  
  
He was having another attack, and hadn't told anyone.  
  
His frown deepened to a scowl. "Maxwell," he whispered crossly, and shook his shoulder. "Maxwell!"  
  
Duo stared at him, bleary-eyed and uncomprehending. "Wha...?" His eyelids were raised only to half-mast; with a sigh, Wufei knew the attack and the medicine were already working their sleepy way through his system.  
  
"I thought Quatre said you were sleeping with them?"  
  
Duo blinked a few times, slowly, and Wufei could tell his eyes weren't focusing. "Huh?"  
  
Well, he couldn't just *leave* the baka there; one did not abandon one's comrades during their time of weakness, even in such as simple thing as this. With a grunt, he pulled the couch back from the fire a little ways and picked up the alarm clock. Maxwell whimpered his protest, and curled into a tighter ball, trying to find heat. "Shh," he calmed, "Don't worry, we're going to a warmer place."  
  
"Hell?" Duo mumbled, and relaxed as Wufei's hands pulled him up, close to his chest. The Chinese boy held the American carefully, almost cradling, and they moved slowly towards the room Wufei and Heero shared.  
  
Heero had insisted on taking the side of the bed facing the door--it was one of his many paranoias, despite the heaviness of his sleep tonight--so Wufei took Duo around to the opposite side and sat him gently on the edge.  
  
"No," Duo whispered, "I can't."  
  
"Don't be an idiot, Maxwell," Wufei whispered. "Lie down and get under the covers."  
  
Sighing, he allowed himself to be pushed down onto the bed. He turned over and prepared for another miserable night.  
  
"Maxwell," Wufei whispered again from behind him, and poked the American's back. "Scoot over!"  
  
Duo tensed.  
  
"I don't have enough room," Wufei hissed. "Move!"  
  
"Don't you want to...?" he murmured, the words slurring instead of rolling off of his tongue.  
  
"You're the one who's cold, you sleep in the middle. Now move *over*." Prodding him, the Chinese boy finally had enough room to get on the edge of the bed. "Give me a few more inches. I'm falling off."  
  
Duo was on his side, as stiff as if he'd been frozen. "Heero's gonna kill me."  
  
"Don't be an idiot. Just move over."  
  
"If I touch him, he'll kill me. He'll wake up--he won't even realize who I am, he'll just break my neck and go back to sleep." Duo was shaking again, muscles still tense. "Even--even if he d-does recognize me, he hates me, anyway, s-so he'd probably snap my neck a-anyway."  
  
Wufei sighed and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing bad will happen to you. Just go to sleep."  
  
To his embarassment, Duo began to sniffle.  
  
What could he do? He simply sighed, and made what he hoped was a comforting noise.  
  
"Wu..." Duo gasped, turning and burying his face in Wufei's chest. "He's gonna kill me..."  
  
"Sh," Wufei comforted, stroking Duo's back gently. "You're safe here. You're perfectly safe. Nothing's gonna happen to you. Sh, it's alright. Sh."  
  
Through his tears, Duo laughed bitterly. "I must be the weakest person you know. I'm so stupid. I'm getting your shirt all soggy."  
  
"It doesn't matter," Wufei sighed. "Just go to sleep."  
  
His sobs finally ceasing, Duo rolled himself back over and tried to take up the least amount of space possible, tensing a little when he felt Wufei press up behind him, hand finally resting on his waist. "Relax," Wufei whispered in his ear, and awkwardly stroked his hair with the hand underneath his body.  
  
Duo, despite his misgivings, seemed to fall asleep quickly enough; Wufei attributed it to a combination of the attack and the medication, and yawned a little. Settling his head down on his pillow, he sent his mind a message to wake him up a few minutes before Duo's alarm clock went off; it was pointless to wake Heero, too.  
  
It was his turn to take care of the baka.  
  
*****  
  
Three-oh-seven in the morning, a mere two and a half hours since Duo had joined the frowning boys in bed, Wufei awoke. He blinked to himself for a moment--there was a reason he had set his mental alarm clock--before the feeling of a warm body pressed to his front snapped him into reality.  
  
He and Heero had discovered early in their relationship that they were both much, *much* too hot-blooded to sleep touching; privately, Wufei missed the comfort of his lover in the early morning, pre-rising hours, but Heero never complained, so he left it alone. Not that Heero ever really said much of anything.  
  
Duo, however... it may have merely been a tribute to his illness, but Duo's body was pleasantly temperate. He seemed to just soak in the heat, and radiate back out as little as possible.  
  
Reaching behind him, he snapped the alarm off and then slowly got out of the bed. "Maxwell, get up."  
  
"Huh?" Duo mumbled, and turned over to blink drowsily at Wufei.  
  
The Chinese boy smiled gently at him and pulled him over to the edge of the bed. Duo was surprisingly cute. "Time for your medication."  
  
"Didn't hear the alarm," Duo mumbled. "Wanna sleep." But he pushed himself into a sitting position and allowed his legs to swing off the bed.  
  
"Can you walk unaided?" Wufei asked in a whisper as Duo braced himself and stood.  
  
"Nothin' wrong with my legs," Duo slurred, and proceeded to stumble.  
  
He didn't go far; Wufei caught him quickly into the fall and slipped an arm under his shoulder and around his back. "Just humor me," he comforted when Duo grunted in protest.  
  
They made their way to the bathroom slowly, and Wufei turned on the light. "Did you get a shot earlier?" he asked, eyes raking over the room and pulling down the bottle of syrup.  
  
Blinking owlishly in the sudden light, Duo nodded. "Yeah. Took some of the grape crap, too."  
  
"Good," Wufei said, and measured out the next dosage. "Do you need another injection? How do you feel?"  
  
"Don't need another." Duo's fingers slipped to fiddle with his braid, and he shivered a little. "Tired."  
  
"I know," Wufei said, and handed him the medicine cup. "Drink it. Dizzy?"  
  
"No," Duo said, cupping the medicine in his hand and staring at it as if wondering what it was.  
  
"Drink it," Wufei reiterated. "Cold?"  
  
Duo shivered again. "A little." With a slightly trembling hand, he lifted the cup to his mouth and swallowed the contents. "Blech," he responded, handing back the little measuring cup.  
  
"Well," Wufei said, "you're responsive, not dizzy, not vomiting, and your pupils are evenly dialated. Anything I forgot?"  
  
"Not passed out," Duo said, and shivered again.  
  
"Come on." Wufei slipped his arm back under Duo's and lifted, helping support him. "Were you sleeping okay?"  
  
"Yes, until I woke up," Duo said, obviously annoyed at the continued questioning. "Want to sleep now."  
  
Wufei couldn't help but chuckle at the slightly petulant tone. "I know. So do I." He began to help Duo back to his room. The American shuffled beside him, hand unwillingly clasping Wufei's shoulders as they made their way back.  
  
"Another six hours?" Wufei whispered when they were back in the room, setting Duo on the edge of the bed and helping him back under the covers.  
  
"Yeah," Duo said sleepily. "Then more grape crap."  
  
"Go to sleep, Duo," Wufei said, amused. "And, scoot over! I need more room."  
  
*****  
  
Heero awoke to a hand on his arm. Most people, when regularly sleeping with someone, might not find it strange to wake one morning and be touching their bed partner... but Heero and Wufei never touched. Never. Heero had a sort of opposition to touching in general; he didn't like doing it in front of the other pilots, and he didn't like doing it while not having sex. Heero was glad Wufei didn't seem to mind too much; they wasn't like Quatre and Trowa. PDAs bothered Heero, especially in front of Duo. He was uncomfortable, looking at Duo while touching Wufei... remembering the feel of Duo against him those months ago in the warehouse, as he pulled Duo's body close to conserve warmth...  
  
So the hand was a new thing. Opening his eyes he turned his head to glare at the offending appendage...  
  
...Which definitely wasn't Wufei's, unless the Chinese boy had previously been using tanning lotion, and just washed it off... which was improbable, considering the kinky shower sex they had when Heero got into the mood--  
  
Heero forced himself to focus, and followed the hand up the attached arm and to a face, and then blinked.  
  
What the hell?  
  
He blinked again. Was he dreaming?  
  
Okay, his mind proccessed, Duo was in bed with him. He glanced over Duo's head. Duo was in bed with him and Wufei, he amended. What the hell happened last night?? Had he and Duo--and Wufei, he tagged on hurriedly, and Wufei--had they had some kinky sex--and he'd *forgotten* it?! No, no, they weren't naked. Were they?  
  
Sitting up slightly, he caught Wufei's eye and laid back down. Wufei was awake and lying snuggled up to Duo's back. One arm was curled around the braided boy's waist, and the other was quietly stroking the long braid.  
  
"Why is he here?" Heero mouthed to Wufei, noticing how uncomfortably close the two boys were.  
  
"Had an attack," Wufei mouthed back.  
  
Heero shifted away a bit, glancing at Duo. To have this boy so close, and not be able to touch...  
  
"Don't move," Wufei mouthed. "He'll wake up. He thinks you hate him."  
  
Heero looked away for a moment, embarassed. "It's not that," he finally mouthed back.  
  
Wufei caught his eyes and held them, studying him carefully. "Do you want to?"  
  
"To what?"  
  
"I know you want him," Wufei mouthed, looking a little embarassed. "It wouldn't bother me if you wanted to..."  
  
Heero flushed, considering it. "We don't have to."  
  
"He should sleep with us, though." Wufei looked more determined about this one. "He gets cold too easily, and he's not unpleasant to share a bed with." His eyes fell down to where his fingers were fiddling with the weave of Duo's braid. "I really wouldn't mind."  
  
Duo stirred slightly, and Wufei sighed. "It's time for his medicine again. We'll be right back." Dropping the braid, Wufei moved his hand up to gently shake Duo's shoulder. "Maxwell, it's time again."  
  
"Clock," Duo mumbled, moving back into the warmth of Wufei's body.  
  
"I turned it off so it wouldn't wake up Heero, remember? Come along."  
  
From his spot in bed, Heero watched Wufei gently lead Duo out of bed and out the door, holding his arm for support. He could hear them walking down the hall, Wufei stepping so very lightly and Duo shuffling next to him, and wondered how he could have possibly slept through their adventure last night. This obviously wasn't the first time Wufei had assisted Maxwell with his medication, so they had been walking around, plus the fact that they climbed in and out of bed, possibly multiple times.  
  
He frowned. Was he getting too soft for this war?  
  
It was probably just the combination of mountain air and the cumulation of a busy month and a half of missions--kept him wired to the point of exhaustion. It must be that, he decided. Nothing else made sense. He was just tired. He hadn't become so used to the other boys' presences that he slept easily and deeply when they were around.  
  
Lying on his back, he folded his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling, contemplating his life and listening to the sounds of the two pilots returning from the bathroom.  
  
"H-Heero," Duo stuttered from near the doorway when he noticed Heero's eyes were open. "I-I... I'm sorry! I didn't mean--"  
  
"Hn," Heero replied, not looking over like he wanted to. "Baka."  
  
"Get in the room, Maxwell. You're blocking the doorway."  
  
"I-I'm sorry, Wufei. I'll leave, and you guys can--I won't bother you."  
  
There was a small scuffle, and Heero smirked a little as Wufei steered the shivering Duo back towards the bed and into it.  
  
"Scoot over, Maxwell. I don't have enough room."  
  
Duo inched closer to Heero, and suddenly, he wasn't smirking anymore. Duo was close. Very close. Turning his head slightly, he tried to see how close.  
  
Very--yet, somehow, not touching.  
  
Somehow both relieved and disappointed, he caught Wufei's eye. The look in his lover's dark eyes said, "I know what you want, and I won't stop you." Duo's eyes were closed, a look of intense embarassment on his face.  
  
"I don't want him," Heero thought at himself, but his lips were already moving to cover Duo's.  
  
*****  
  
Duo started as a mouth devoured his, and his eyes opened wide to find what was evidently a close, personal look at Heero's face. He gasped a little as he felt another set of lips begin to work at his neck, and sighed internally.  
  
It had been a bad idea to come back to the bed. It was a bad idea to get in the bed in the first place. If Wufei and Heero wanted to have sex, they could have just told him to leave.  
  
Their passion twined around him, and he relaxed, giving in to the inevitable. His eyelids fluttered closed, and he knew that later he'd be lying next to them, forgotten, as they made love. Maybe sharing the love they had for each other would be enough, he thought, and let Heero plunder his mouth. He could feel the hard body of the Japanese boy, feel the muscles tense as they kissed, and shivered a little, because it was Heero. Wufei nibbled his earlobe, and he groaned, reaching a hand back to the other boy's hip and stroking it. Maybe it would be enough to keep out the cold. 


End file.
